The Essence of Existence
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Novellazation. "Where do I come from...and where am I going?" This is the question that haunts the immortal, superior Homunculus. She will brave a thousand things she never dared to find the answer.
1. Reunion of Fools

**Author's Note: This is a mini-novelization of episodes 35-47 of the first anime, specifically focusing on the scenes involving Lust. I've always found this portion of the anime fascinating, and since Lust was my favorite Homunculus from the first anime, I knew that eventually I would have to write this. I've tried to keep everyone in character and extrapolate Lust's thoughts as much as possible, but won't really be going into a lot of detail about other characters. This is Lust's story.  
**

**Chapter One ~ Reunion of Fools**

Rain fell in a soft drizzle, as it had all day. The sound of droplets hitting the window buzzed softly like the static undertone of quiet music on the radio. Lust had taken the window seat when they slipped into the booth earlier, and now she propped her chin delicately on one hand, staring at the rivulets obscuring the view. The whole day had been quiet and sleepy, the constant drizzle keeping most people cozily tucked away in their homes.

Lucky for them. Homunculi tended to draw stares everywhere they went, even if most people never guessed their true nature. Of the seven Homunculi, Envy and Gluttony were perhaps the most conspicuous, so it was just as well this diner had been empty for the past hour. After all, people tended to notice when a round, bald man started chewing on the furniture. And once they got over that, they would notice the young man with bizarre clothing and long, stringy hair who was carelessly flipping a knife around.

Suddenly Envy cut into Lust's thoughts and the sounds of Gluttony absently gnawing on a corner of the table. "So I hear Greed's dead."

"Yes," Lust murmured with a wry smile, glancing at his reflection in the window. Envy balanced his knife on one finger, looking supremely unconcerned as though they were not talking about their brother. "In a sense," she continued, "his death suited him in the most perfect way. Violence so intense it bordered on the beautiful..."

They had seen the remains after that Full Metal boy was finished. Who would have thought such a young child could have killed the mighty Greed in a one-on-one fight? Of course, he obviously had help. Once Laboratory 5 had been destroyed and Greed escaped, their master had made Greed one of her priorities. He had crossed her far too many times.

As though picking up where Lust's thoughts trailed away, Envy said with a smirk, "Well, Edward Elric can murder us all he wants, but _you-know-who_ will just make us another one." The knife clattered noisily to the table. "Speaking of which, Sloth is taking care of the new Wrath right now. I wonder what we should make him do..."

Lust said nothing, letting her vision blur out of focus as she gazed at the streaks of rain.

But Envy didn't like being ignored, so he huffed, "What's up with you? Don't tell me you're getting sentimental about Greed dying."

"Not really," Lust murmured, the words leaking from her against her will. "I was just thinking... Where do we come from, and where are we going? Where do we go when we die?" Even normal humans didn't know, and none of the people sitting around the table were remotely normal.

"Pointless," he snorted.

Before either of them could say any more, the heavyset owner of the diner slouched over, yawning. "Sorry, folks," he said as he approached their table, "but if you don't mind, I'm just about to close up shop here."

"Go right ahead," Envy replied boredly, now flipping the knife between his fingers, "but we're not leaving."

"Oh you're not, huh?" The man seemed to swell with anger, till he was almost as large as Gluttony – and that was saying something.

"We don't need to go anywhere right now, so I think we'll be staying."

The man could hardly speak through his infuriated spluttering. "Now, you listen to me, stranger!"

"Oh, shut up." With the speed of a snake springing forward, Envy grasped the handle of the knife and sank the blade directly into the owner's heart. The man's breath left him in a puff, and he crashed to the floor with a resounding thud.

Immediately and predictably, Gluttony's childishly eager voice cried, "Can I eat him? Oh – oh – can I _eeeat_ him, Envy?"

Envy tossed the knife across the room and smirked when it stuck, quivering, in the back wall. "Well, we did skip dessert. Today, it's my treat."

The fat Homunculus needed no more encouragement than that; he pounced on the corpse on the floor of the diner and began chewing as noisily as ever. Lust was his constant companion and had witnessed him devour hundreds of people, so she paid him no mind. Envy got up, muttered something about going outside, and stepped around Gluttony's feast. Lust continued her vigil of the rain on the window, thinking over what she had said. _Where do I come from, and where am I going?_ That thought had been plaguing her for some time, always rising like a bubble to the top of her mind. But she couldn't remember where it had originally come from. Obviously, the others didn't care. Envy called it pointless, Gluttony only ever thought about his stomach... So why did it seem so monumental to her? Was it just because Homunculi were practically immortal?

_SCREEEEECH – CRASH!_

Lust's violet eyes focused on the road beyond the window, and saw a crowd of people already rushing around the car that had smashed into a building across the street. There was a woman, clutching a child to her chest and rocking back and forth, screaming words that couldn't quite reach Lust's ears. But she could see the blood seeping down over the cobblestones, and she didn't need to hear.

Then a man came running, and for some reason Lust's eyes followed him among all the other people running towards the scene of the accident. He didn't seem particularly remarkable from the back – just a tall man with dark hair and glasses – but Lust found herself getting to her feet, stepping over the half-eaten corpse, and making her way outside. Ignoring the rain that quickly drenched her, she joined the crowd of onlookers.

She drew short when she saw what the man was doing. He bent over the boy, a bloody heap in his sobbing mother's arms, and held his fist over the wound. A ring around one finger suddenly flashed an unmistakable red, and Lust started with surprise. Could it be...?

"He'll be all right now," the man murmured to the mother as the boy opened his eyes and blinked in surprise to find himself drenched in his own blood.

Now the woman was crying with joy, and as the man stood again she gazed up at him rapturously. "Thank you so much!"

Then, as the crowd began to filter away again, the man turned in Lust's direction. The smile slid off his face as their eyes met, and Lust blinked. _I want you by my side...forever._

"Lust?" the man whispered, his eyes wide with shock and a slowly burgeoning hope.

"Lujon..."

* * *

She was back in her booth, staring out the window. But this time, Lust mainly wanted to avoid Lujon's earnest, dark eyes, which stared at her avidly, drinking in her every slight expression like a man trying to quench his thirst at a dripping tap. Envy had slunk away as usual, and Gluttony sat at the bar with his back discreetly turned, licking his lips happily. At least he'd finished before Lujon came in; she doubted he would look at her so hopefully if he knew the sort of people she associated with. The sort of person she was.

"It's been two years, hasn't it?" Lujon always talked too much – even without the slightest encouragement from her, he kept up a nervous chatter. "I never thought I'd see you again. I've got so much to tell you... But before I go into that, there's something I need to ask you."

Lust looked over at him at last, as he moved to stare down at his hands clasped on the table. "It's just...I've never been able to come to terms with it. The reason you left, Lust. Can you tell me that?" He frowned, and clenched his fingers tightly. "You just disappeared. You didn't even say goodbye."

She had known he would ask that, but was no more eager to reply, so she feigned indifference. "I don't remember," she said nonchalantly. "It was such a long time ago."

"Well, _I_ remember! You taught me so many things." His face softened. "Alchemy...and something even more important..."

Lust didn't like the direction this was heading, so she changed the subject, inserting a slight tone of irritation into her voice to deflect him. "What are you doing here? You've never left your village before." Then she remembered the ring, and she wondered. Maybe, after a little probing, she could discover whether this was a waste of time or not. "Are you...looking for something?"

"Well, yes." Lujon fingered his ring, as she'd suspected. "I'm looking for a new Stone. You must remember _that_, at least. Thanks to the Philosopher's Stone you gave me, I saved my whole village from that horrible disease." He clenched his fist so that his knuckles turned white around the blood-red ring. "But the disease is spreading again, and this Stone's power is weakening."

He looked up at last, their eyes locking. "Please," he murmured earnestly, "will you lend me your strength again, help me save them like you did before?" And then his voice fell to a whisper as he delivered the final stroke. "Lust...I need you."

And something stirred deep within Lust, something she had never fully understood, something she had nearly forgotten, something she feared. It had always been there, but usually she could push it to the back of her mind, and with every heart her fingers pierced, the little voice within her seemed to grow quieter. Yet now, with his dark eyes holding hers as he leaned forward slightly, his neck tight, his whole being pleading with her...that voice spoke again.

Lust listened.

**xxx**

Two years before, Lust and Gluttony stood, unfazed by the rain, at the foot of a hill that looked as though it had simply melted across the narrow dirt road. Thick mud spread before them, littered with the branches of felled trees, the splintered remains of what looked like a carriage, and sprawling arms and legs. The passengers hadn't stood a chance, and the large boulder that had uprooted a tall tree seemed to have crushed the horse's skull.

"Must have been a landslide," Lust remarked, unconcerned. "Just look at all those bodies."

But that was the wrong thing to say in such company. Gluttony, who had been gazing at the destruction hungrily, now spoke up. "Can I eeeat them? Can I eat them, pleeease?"

Lust chuckled and patted the bald head of her short companion. "No, leave them be. You should go on a bit of a diet." She knew there would be people investigating this disaster in time, and it would not do to leave the remains of a carriage but none of the people – especially not when they needed to enter this village with minimal suspicion.

Suddenly a hand groped out of the mud, and a young woman struggled to pull herself from the wreckage. Her short brown hair and plain woolen dress were streaked with mud, but she seemed to have escaped the others' fate. She lay some distance from the bodies, which made Lust suspect she had actually been walking along the side of the road, rather than riding in the carriage. However, she seemed weak and could not lift the boards that pinned her to the ground.

Lust raised an eyebrow, not moving an inch to help her. "Lucky girl."

At the sound of her voice, the girl looked up weakly. Then she took a basket Lust hadn't noticed before and pushed it forward. "Please..." she whispered, her voice nearly lost in the pattering of the rain. "Take these...herbs back to my village. They need them desperately."

Lust had no intention of fulfilling the girl's request, but before she could make any reply, a cry broke through the still night air. "If anyone can hear me, answer!"

"Over there! There they are!"

"I see them!"

Men with lanterns made their way along the road, peering forward through the dark. They rushed forward when they saw the landslide, and then the flickering light fell upon Lust, Gluttony, and the half-pinned girl. "Hey, are you okay?"

Then one man broke free of the group, rushing forward with an anguished, "Lydia!" He ran towards the girl and bent over her, looking stricken. Lust could see little of his face because of the hood of his raincoat, but she saw light reflecting off the rims of his glasses and outlining his young, intelligent face.

The girl looked up with effort and smiled faintly, almost apologetically.

"Stay with me, Lydia!" the man cried, touching her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Lujon..." she murmured, then pushed her little basket towards him. "Here..."

To Lust's slight surprise, Lujon angrily swatted the basket away, spilling Lydia's hard-earned leaves all over the muddy ground. "I told you not to go!" he shouted angrily. "It was too dangerous, and these herbs won't do us any good anyway!"

Lust's attention was diverted by a man with a lantern approaching her and saying, "I'm surprised. You two must have been riding in the carriage too, right?"

"But you know," another man broke in, "you should leave quickly, before it's too late. There's an outbreak of fossilitis, and no one who's contracted it has survived for very long."

"Fossilitis?" Lust echoed, feigning ignorance even though she had been in on the plan with Envy from the beginning.

At this, the man – Lujon – looked up. "I'll wipe that disease off the face of the planet!" he cried fiercely, his eyes aflame with more than the reflected light of the lanterns. "You'll see. I'll do it with my alchemy."

As he turned back to help Lydia out from under the wreckage, Lust watched him carefully. They had found their alchemist.

**xxx**

With a few evasive words, Lust managed to slip into the village with minimal attention. Most of the townsfolk had their own problems to worry about anyway, and there were all those corpses to dig out and bury as well. After making sure Gluttony was safely hidden with Envy in the forest looming over the village, Lust set out through the streets to find their quarry. It looked like a small, struggling settlement, with only a few streets dividing the rough log cabins. They were fairly isolated here, which was one of the reasons the Homunculi had chosen this spot to try out their little experiment. Even if the fossilitis wiped out the entire village, there would be little danger of it spreading to the surrounding settlements.

Not that Lust particularly cared about the foolish beings who populated this world. They were only human, which meant they were dispensable. She was only concerned that her master's plan would see its conclusion.

Finally, after nearly an hour of surreptitiously peeping through curtains as she trudged through the deserted streets, she found the man she was seeking. Together with a knot of harried-looking townspeople, he entered one particular cabin. Curious, Lust stepped up to the window and looked through. In the middle of the single room, a form that looked like a small boy lay on the floor under a thin blanket. His fingers scrabbled at the rough floor in agony, and Lust saw that they had turned grey and flinty, like stone – or a fossil.

She couldn't hear what Lujon was murmuring as he knelt before the boy, notebook in hand. But she could see the light of a transmutation as his circle began to glow on the floor, and she could hear the keening shrieks of the pain-riddled child. Lust waited, her eyebrows rising as the flinty skin slowly began to soften and return to normal. Impressive.

But she had thought too soon. At the very moment the energy should have tapered off and stabilized the child's health, it suddenly spiraled out of hand, the light flashed and fizzled out, and the child's body burst like a water-filled balloon.

Lust stepped back from the window and retreated a short distance, pondering what she had seen. She hadn't been wrong in her choice, she was sure of it. She had made many attempts like this over the years, so she knew by now what to look for. But this Lujon would have to be led by the hand before she could trust him to carry out his part of the plan.

Soon enough, Lujon staggered out into the rain, retreating from the anguished sobs of the boy's parents. He only made it to the next house, however, when he collapsed against the wall and weakly pounded it with one fist. The rain did not quite drown out the faint sound of sobbing.

"None of my efforts have done anything!" he whimpered softly, and Lust drew a little nearer. Through his tears, he began to pray to whatever god the people in this region believed in. "Please! Hear your loyal servant... Please save the little ones, at least... Just send us aid... Please, help us..."

And suddenly, all thought of how to channel and focus this man's desperation to the proper goal was extinguished by another man's voice. _"Please, spare her! Ishbala...help me save her. I ask that with your power, you save this little one."_ _And his arms were around her, and she was weak, so very weak, and tears fell from his eyes to her cheeks, and-_

Lust blinked, frightened. What was that? What had happened? She was sure she had never seen that man before, yet the images assaulted her like a half-forgotten memory.

Lujon was still praying, though his sobs had weakened and now he slumped against the wall, defeated. "Please...spare them."

Shaking aside that incomprehensible moment of delirium, Lust stepped forward. Now was the time. She raised her voice as she slowly walked towards him, so he could hear her over the rain and his own misery. "Now that conventional medicine has failed, your only recourse seems to be breaking down the body's dead parts and rebuilding them in their original state."

Lujon looked up, and she saw the recognition in his eyes, as well as the hopelessness.

"Your theory is correct," she continued, "but your knowledge of alchemy is still rudimentary. But I will teach you _true_ alchemy."

The man blinked at her, too dazed to look delighted or grateful, and she allowed herself a small smile. She would have him in her snare before he knew the meaning of danger.


	2. Denial of Desire

**Chapter Two ~ Denial of Desire**

Lust stood in the middle of Lujon's study. In his state, he would have taken her anywhere in the hope of learning what she had to teach. She smirked to herself as she brushed her wet, dripping hair out of her face. Men were so easy to manipulate, especially young, naïve men who kept their nose in a book all the time. A look, a touch, and he was hers to command. She could feel his eyes on her, could almost smell his amazement that someone like her had appeared seemingly out of nowhere in this backwater village.

It was a cozy study, though the desk and chair were roughly carved, probably by a neighbor. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with more books than she had expected, and the desk was littered with notes and diagrams. A single kerosene lamp illuminated the room with a warm glow that made the pattering of the rain on the roof sound homely and comforting.

"So this is where you do your studying," Lust remarked, running a finger along the spines of the books on one shelf. "At least you've got a lot of books here." She picked a large book and thumbed through it, scanning the text. Though she had never performed a transmutation in her life – no Homunculus could – her master had made sure she knew the basics and which books to study to create a firm base of alchemic knowledge. And if Lujon had been reading books like this, it was no _wonder_ he hadn't gotten very far. Turning up her nose slightly, she tore the book in half with a single jerk and let the loose pages cascade to the floor.

Understandably, Lujon started and yelped, "What are you doing?!"

"Most of these are worthless," she replied calmly, leafing through several more books like it and giving them the same treatment. "The first step is to acquire the correct knowledge." Then she saw a title she recognized, and set it on one side of the desk.

Disregarding Lujon's feeble attempts to gather up the fallen pages, Lust continued her purge of the room. In the end, a neat stack of five leather-bound volumes sat on the corner of the desk, and the floor was littered with ripped paper and bindings. Lujon weakly lowered himself into the chair, staring around at his precious library – which had probably taken a lifetime to procure – lying in shambles all around him.

"Read these in order," Lust said, patting the pile in satisfaction. There would be no turning back now. "And memorize every word."

Lujon meekly set to work, and Lust leaned against an empty bookcase to supervise. Now began the long, arduous part of her mission. She had to make it difficult enough that he would feel a sense of accomplishment once he reached the right point, but not so difficult he would give up halfway. He needed to be knowledgeable enough that he could pursue the Philosopher's Stone when the time came, but she would have to act before he had enough skill to detect her duplicity. It was a delicate balance, but she had had years to practice. If she and her brethren had never achieved their goal, it certainly wasn't her fault.

Suddenly Lujon slammed his fist down on the desk next to the book he was reading. "I can't do it!" he cried. "This is too hard; I just can't get my head around it. I don't understand!"

With difficulty, Lust kept from rolling her eyes. Seriously, these humans were ready to give up before they'd begun to try. But she held back the growl of frustration she longed to utter; she could already tell the gentle approach would work better with this milksop of a man. So she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him with a soft smile – the kind of smile that had never failed to make a man stare.

Sure enough, Lujon gazed up at her, his cheeks rosy in the lamp's glow. "It's okay," she said, softening her voice as well. "You can do it. You have talent – just look at how far you've come on your own. Be confident. It does wonders for a man."

Oh, how she loved the thrill of power as she quietly tied the noose tighter around his neck. A man would do anything to impress a woman, especially a woman as beautiful as she. She had observed the same thing again and again in these silly human men. If she used this soft voice with the tiniest hint of a flirt on a human, he would jump off a cliff or blow his own brains out if she asked him. But if she used it on someone like Envy, he would just laugh. Truly, they were the destined masters of-

_As Lujon turned back to his work with renewed determination, as the light glittered on the lenses of his glasses, Lust saw that other man bending over her, the light shining on the rims of his glasses and reflecting off the tear trailing down his cheek. She reached for his hand, and he clasped it in hers, so tight, so warm, and she smiled because she realized that as long as they were together-_

With effort, Lust returned to the present. She straightened slowly, trying not to breathe hard or give any other sign that her heart was suddenly pounding wildly against the Ouroborus tattoo on her chest. Who was that man? Where did these memories come from? And why, _why_ did Lujon bring them to the forefront of her mind?

* * *

The days swiftly passed, and little by little Lust guided her pupil down the path that led to the Philosopher's Stone. Soon Lujon gave up his feeble tantrums about being too stupid to learn what she taught him, and she felt a measure of pride as the man's transmutations improved visibly.

And then came the day they both had dreamed of, though for vastly different reasons. Rather than having Lujon practice his transmutations in his house, Lust led him to a secluded clearing in the forest surrounding the village. Unquestioningly, Lujon followed Lust's instructions and drew a large circle on the ground.

"Right," she said when he looked up for her approval. "That will do." Then she stepped closer to him and handed him a silver ring embedded with a blood-red stone.

"Wh-What's this?" Lujon stammered, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"My gift to you." She quickly went on to explain, so he wouldn't get any funny ideas. "The Philosopher's Stone will increase your alchemic power and help you obtain the things you desire."

While Lujon slid the ring onto his index finger, gazing at it in wonder, Lust quickly snapped her hand up towards a bluebird sitting on a branch overhead. Before Lujon had time to look up, she shot a finger at the bird and killed it with one stroke. The bird fell with a small _plop_ onto the ground. Lujon looked at it in surprise.

"Man must crawl before he walks, and walk before he flies. See if you can return this bird to the air, and then maybe you're ready to move on."

Lujon gulped, but with his goal so near, close enough to touch, he would not back down. With gentle hands, he transferred the tiny feathered body to the center of his circle and knelt at the edge, notebook in hand. As before, when he laid his hand on the circle he also began to read off one of his prayers. Incantations were unnecessary, but for Lujon they seemed to bring out all of his latent power.

"May the great Creator save this creature, and watch over him so he does not stray. The sun shall not smite him by day, nor the moon by night. No evil shall harm him. As I, a humble servant, employ the knowledge that God gave us to bring him back to life!"

Lust watched in satisfaction as the glow of the transmutation mingled with the harsh red light of the ring's stone. As the light died away, they watched the tiny bird open its bright eyes, hop upright again, chirp, and fly off.

Lujon leapt to his feet, delighted and astonished. "I did it! I actually did it!"

Lust smiled, unsurprised. The weakest alchemist in the world could do as much with a Philosopher's Stone, but she did not tell him that. "Well, what did I tell you, Lujon? I knew you had talent buried somewhere."

Then, to her surprise, Lujon rushed forward and grabbed both of her hands, squeezing them as he grinned at her. "It's all because of you. Thank you!"

Lust smiled and extricated herself gently. If she played her cards right, he would never know that the ring he wore was nothing but a fake, capable only of creating illusions. She knew that bird was lying on the forest floor as they spoke, dead as before.

* * *

And the days passed. Lujon practiced healing animals, determined to perfect his technique before he attempted healing the fossilitis victims. Lust watched, but she gave him more freedom now that the supposed Philosopher's Stone was in his possession. The villagers had accepted her presence, believing she was an alchemist who had been passing through and remained out of the kindness of her heart. Well, they all believed that except for one.

Lydia hadn't interfered with Lujon's lessons, and mostly left them alone, presumably for the good of the village. The progression of her own severe case of fossilitis soon prevented her from leaving her house most of the time. But one day, when Lust was about to slip out of the village to confer with Gluttony and Envy, who lurked in the surrounding woods, Lydia confronted her. She had to use a crutch, and bandages swathed one arm and a whole side of her face, but somehow she had managed to stumble out onto the street where Lust now waited for her.

"I-I'm not too proud," Lydia quavered. "I'll beg if I have to."

Crossing her arms disdainfully, Lust arched an eyebrow. "I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

Tears sparkled in Lydia's one remaining eye. "Please, don't take Lujon. Don't take him away from me. Did he tell you that we're engaged, Lujon and I? We're going to be married just as soon as my fossilitis is cured."

Lust chuckled. It was like watching a bug stuck on its back, legs waving fruitlessly in the air. She wondered why, even as she pitied the silly girl, she almost...envied her. "How sweet," she crooned, thrusting such thoughts aside. "Congratulations. You'll have to invite me to the wedding; I'll be sure to catch the bouquet."

Lydia stomped her good foot. "Please, don't fool around! I'm serious; just leave us alone-"

But before she could continue her pleas, she let out a cry and clapped a hand to her other eye. She tried to hobble back inside, but her legs gave way and she collapsed, writhing, onto the street.

On the verge of just leaving her there until some other villager found her, Lust hesitated. Perhaps now was the time...yes. Decisively, Lust heaved the writhing woman into her arms and hauled her off to Lujon's house. As a Homunculus, she was much stronger than her appearance suggested, so she drew a few odd looks as she passed the villagers, all of whom had become rather subdued as the disease proliferated.

Lujon started up from the chair where he had been studying his notebook, and he rushed forward in alarm, trying to take Lydia into his own arms.

"Prepare the circle," Lust commanded, not letting go of the woman who was now lying weak and still in her grasp. "It's time."

Lujon immediately obeyed, but in the few minutes it took before Lust laid her burden down in the center, the stone-like patches of skin spread across Lydia's body at an alarming rate, crackling and hardening till she could hardly move enough to breathe. Lust retreated as Lujon knelt by the edge of the circle, and only then did she realize that several villagers had come hesitantly through the open door to watch. Well, no matter. If Lujon was to succeed, he would benefit from an audience.

"Lydia." Lujon's voice was a whisper, but everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, and it sounded loud in the stillness. "With my power, I will heal you." The look on his face was determined, intense, desperate. The perfect ingredients for a creator of the true Philosopher's Stone.

Then Lujon put both hands down on the edge of the circle, and this time he did not even look at his little notebook. He stared unblinking at Lydia's face, frozen and petrified in an expression of utmost pain. And as the circle began to glow, his voice rang out, strong and sure. "Let the disease which wracks her body in pain be forced out. Let the pure body reject the evil presence. The Lord is this woman's keeper. Watch over her, God, so that through all hours of the day and night, under sun and moon, she might be cleansed of this plague. Protect her from harm."

And when the light faded away, there lay Lydia as she had been – her skin smooth, her body unharmed, slumbering peacefully. Lujon had done it.

* * *

Word of Lujon's successful healing of Lydia spread quickly, and soon the man had his hands full performing transmutations on the infected villagers until he collapsed from exhaustion. Soon, the whole village was transformed. People who had shuffled along the streets, fearfully avoiding each other and hunching over as though bearing heavy loads, remembered what it was to laugh and be carefree. Lujon became a hero overnight; everyone looked to him with awe at how he had cured the seemingly incurable. Lust let him enjoy his short period of fame, knowing that soon the red stone would fail, the disease would return, and his only choice would be to seek the real Stone. She would tell him that he had used the only Stone she had, and watch as he turned in desperation to ancient, forbidden secrets. Anything to save his beloved village.

In this time of warmth and happiness, Lydia focused most of her time on preparing for her marriage to Lujon. She never spoke a word against Lust after she had discovered that Lust had carried her immediately to Lujon to be cured, but Lust knew she was anxious to seal her claim on the man she loved. Lust had nothing to complain about in that regard – so long as he was not distracted from his studies when the time came, Lujon could marry five girls at once for all she cared.

But apparently, that wasn't what he wanted at all. On the day appointed for the wedding, Lust tried to quietly slip away through the forest, but when she stepped out into the clearing where she had given Lujon the ring, she found the man himself standing there, as though waiting for her.

Lust slowed to a stop, staring at him. "Isn't it about time for the ceremony to start?"

"I can't do it." Lujon was breathing fast, gazing at her with fevered eyes. "Listen, I don't know how to say this, but... Alchemy isn't the only thing you've taught me. Something more important. Something I don't want to forget."

Lust frowned; she didn't like his tone. "What are you talking about?"

And suddenly, he took a few steps, closing the distance between them. His arms wrapped around her bare shoulders, and he held her close, whispering into her hair, "I want you by my side...forever."

"_Forever," he murmured, clasping her hand in his as he gazed down at her. She smiled and lifted her head for a kiss. And as he bent closer, she gazed into his beautiful red eyes behind his glasses, filled with pain as though-_

Lust blinked and returned to herself as she heard a twig snap nearby. She and Lujon whirled towards the source of the noise and immediately sprang apart. Lydia remained where she was for a moment, standing next to a tree at the edge of the clearing, then picked up the skirts of her long bridal gown and ran away, sobbing.

Lujon looked embarrassed and confused, glancing swiftly between Lust and Lydia's receding back.

Lust felt something twist inside her as Lydia's sobs seemed to echo in her ears, even though she was soon out of earshot. They were like whispers in the very core of her being, and as she listened to them, they grew louder and louder till they threatened to blot out the world. Like a thousand dying screams of agony. "You should go after her," she told Lujon in a hard voice, quelling the screams in her mind.

"But-"

"Go!" Lust shouted, feeling her face contort briefly into the snarl of the soulless beast she was. And even so, he hesitated before racing off after his fiancé. And in that moment, that final moment when their eyes connected for the last time, Lust realized what a dangerous position she was in. For a moment, she actually considered remaining here, forgetting the Stone and her master and their mission, because in his eyes she could see something she had unknowingly yearned for all her life. Something warm and generous and _human._

So she ran instead.

**xxx**

But all that had happened two years ago. That fleeting moment of human intimacy was long gone. Lujon finally broke the tense silence between them as the carriage clattered and bounced over the rough path through the forest. "I'm so glad you're coming back to the village with me. I told everyone back home I was leaving to look for the Philosopher's Stone, and that was the truth. But really...I was hoping I would find you most of all."

Words left her before she could stop them, carried on the heels of her memories. "I wanted to see you too. I've had this strong feeling since I left. Like a door left unclosed."

The hope that lit his eyes brought her to her senses. She was being foolish, as foolish as any of these pathetic humans. She was like a schoolgirl dreaming of an impossible future. _I am not what he thinks I am, and I never will be. That is mere fact. Nothing to lament over._ She should have said nothing. Why did she speak? Even if, somewhere deep inside, she knew those words were true, there was no cause to say them.

He began again, hesitant though hope still lingered. "Can I ask you again...why did you abandon me like that? You must have known how I felt." Then his face darkened slightly and he turned to look out the window of the carriage instead. "Or did you even care at all?"

He did not know, he _could_ not know, how that question pained her. Because she knew, in her heart of hearts, that he was right. She did not care. But oh, how she wanted to. Instead of replying, instead of cracking the mask that encased her as rigidly as fossilitis, she simply slipped the ring off Lujon's finger, replaced it with a new one using sleight of hand, and pressed it back into his palm, good as new. "You shouldn't search for all the answers, believe me," she said, smiling sadly. "You might not like what you find."

* * *

Once again, Lujon was the hero of his village. Lust watched it all with a strong sense of deja vu. She didn't know where Lydia was – maybe the disease had claimed her, maybe she moved away or married someone else and forgot all about Lujon after how he had betrayed her. But everyone else seemed delighted to see Lujon again, and after a few hours the fake Stone had given all the ailing villagers a few more hours of strength. This fake Stone was much weaker than the last; Lust wanted to be done with this place and return to her fellow Homunculi and their mission. She was wasting time.

But Lujon insisted on walking with her in the moonlight, and Lust found she could not refuse. After they had reached the outskirts of the village and were completely alone, Lujon turned to her and said, "You've saved me, and this village. Just like you did the first time."

And suddenly his arms were around her again, encasing her, smothering her with their warmth and gentleness and heavy human smell. _And she was staggering across the floor, dripping in her own blood and saliva, staring around in confusion. A man covered in blood cried out, groping for her desperately even though he was far too weak to move. "Don't go! Please!"_

"Do you remember it now?" Lujon murmured, his voice soft by contrast to the pleading voice in her mind. "That day...I held you, and you were happy. I know you were." One hand cradled her head, and the other pressed against the small of her back – warm, comforting pressure. "But this time it will be different," he whispered, pressing his cheek against hers. "This time...I won't let go."

And it hurt, it _hurt,_ that he could love, that he could feel, that there was more to him than his own selfish schemes. Every time he mentioned his desire to help the people who suffered in his village, it was like being pricked with a needle, and when he smiled at Lydia it was like a slap in the face, and when he held her like this, so soft and warm and strong and safe...it was a knife. Stabbing again and again, through her chest.

Like the razor-sharp fingers now plunging through his chest and out the other side. The bestial snarl twisted her lips again as he gasped and struggled to ask her why, and she pulled her fingers back in, letting him fall to the ground. She hated him. Hated him for loving her so strongly and fiercely. For expecting her to reciprocate, when there was nothing but blood in the heart that beat steadily against the Ouroborus tattoo.

"You were my one mistake," she said coldly, staring down at his anguished face and feeling nothing nothing _nothing._ "Nothing more."

Lust didn't care that she had killed a man. She didn't even care that she had just jeopardized the plan they had spent months working to perfect. She turned and walked out of the village even as the screams of the infected and dying began to split the night air. No, she was not like them. She could not scream in agony. She could not die, thus she could not live. She was a Homunculus, a being created from the dead body of a human, bereft of a human soul. And yet, she felt...regret.

"Where do I come from?" she asked the silent, cold sky. "And where am I going?"


	3. Scar

**Chapter Three ~ Scar**

Time passed, and Lust managed to push Lujon to the back of her mind. He was unimportant, irrelevant. And so were the thoughts and feelings she had begun to experience in that village. To keep her mind off these disturbing memories, she threw herself wholeheartedly into her master's plan. Dante had promised to make her a human, and she _would_ see it done. It was all she lived for.

Lust was assigned the task of watching the serial killer known as Scar, to make sure he transmuted the Philosopher's Stone. She brought Gluttony along with her as always, and traveled to Lior for the second time. Under Cornello's rule, the town had been a gem in the middle of the desert, a sparkling jewel with bright buildings and happy townsfolk. But then Edward Elric had come through, and after him the military. Now the town was a rotting carcass of its former life, only just beginning to get back on its feet.

Smirking, Lust strode across the flat rooftop. Just as they were beginning to recover, the military would storm in again, and then Scar would activate a transmutation circle carved into the very streets of Lior, ripping the souls from their bodies. She could almost taste the Philosopher's Stone already, dark and luscious like the red stones that gave her life. When she reached the edge, she leaned an elbow on Gluttony's shoulder and gazed down at the alleyway below.

Scar fought Edward Elric there now, destroying the ground under Edward's feet and forcing him to leap out of the way. Lust wasn't surprised to see the Elric boy; after so many run-ins with this meddling yet promising boy, she had predicted it would only be a matter of time before he came. Not only did he have a grudge against the Ishbalite, but he also seemed unwilling to have the Stone created. Ironic, since the Stone was what Edward had been seeking all this time.

As the fight continued, Lust nudged Gluttony and headed down the stairs at the side of the building. They stood in the shadows at the end of the alley, following the fight with beady eyes. It would not do for Edward to kill Scar – not when he was so close. And Edward had made it perfectly clear that he no longer wanted anything to do with the Philosopher's Stone. What a shame. He was such a talented alchemist.

So when the two grappled with each other and Edward drew back his sword-arm for a strike, Lust raised her hand and shot two fingers at him. Her extended fingers punched holes in the blade, pinning it into the wall behind him and forcing him to let Scar go. Calmly, Lust stepped forward into the moonlight, keeping her fingers lodged in the concrete wall.

Edward whipped his head around, spitting his blond hair out of his face and scowling even more than usual when he saw her. "Great, the Homunculi."

She smirked. "You can call me Lust."

"And I'm Gluttony!" her stout companion piped up from behind her.

"You understand why we're telling you our names. Right, Full Metal boy?"

"Yeah." Edward's eyes narrowed. "You've told me, so now you'll have to kill me, right?"

And before either of them could react, the young alchemist clapped his hands and slammed them into the wall. Several pipes burst, sending gouts of piping-hot steam directly on top of the two Homunculi. With a cry, Lust felt the flesh scalded right off her bones, her arm disintegrating as her body slumped to the ground, useless.

But they were Homunculi, not feeble humans who would succumb to such a pathetic attack. As soon as the steam began to dissipate, their bodies regenerated and they clambered to their feet again. "Wow, that burned!" Gluttony moaned casually as they stepped back into the light.

Lust scoffed at the look on Edward's face. "You can't kill us off _that_ easily, kid. We're not weaklings like Greed."

Scar, who until then had warily eyed these newcomers from the background, chose this moment to step forward menacingly.

Lust spared him a withering look. "Relax, scarred man. We're just trying to help you."

"I don't need help from the likes of you," the man snarled, a hateful scowl furrowing the X-shaped scar on his forehead.

Lust rolled her eyes. As if he had a choice. "If you can make the Philosopher's Stone like you claim, we're going to help you whether you like it or not. And Blondie here had best accept that too," she added pointedly. Why couldn't these humans just go along with the plan?

Suddenly Scar plunged a hand into his pocket and brandished a locket at her as if holding out a talisman to ward away evil spirits. It was a simple, black locket with a silver cross on it and a small blue stone set in the very center. Lust had never seen it in her life. "Does this locket mean anything to you?" he said tightly. "You gave it to my brother."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped impatiently.

"You know more than you think!" He took another step forward, thrusting the locket towards her.

_He was holding her close against his chest, murmuring soothing words into her ear in the deep, melodious voice of an Ishbalite. As he bent to kiss the crown of her head, she could feel the rims of his glasses pressing down against her scalp, and she longed to stay with him, but she knew she could not. She knew time was running out. So she lifted her face for one final kiss-_

Lust was vaguely aware of Gluttony's anguished cries as she slumped to the ground. All the strength seemed to have fled from her limbs, and she shook all over in a cold sweat. Something was beating, throbbing inside her, moaning with an ache that entered her very soul. It devoured her, consuming all her strength, all her focus, all her determination to see her task completed.

She descended at last into darkness.

* * *

Lust regained consciousness as they left the outskirts of Lior, but she let Gluttony continue carrying her over his shoulder. As the Homunculus ran over the dunes with surprising speed for someone of his size, Lust tried to grasp what had happened. There was that Ishbalite with the glasses again, springing up in her mind like a forgotten memory. A memory of a dream, slipping away like sand between her fingers. Why did he keep appearing in her mind, when confronted by men as different as Lujon and Scar? What did it all mean?

When they neared the military outpost, Lust got to her feet and slipped through the shadows with Gluttony. Pride was as condescending as his name implied, and Lust hated to give him reason to imply she was unfit for her job. He was an upstart fool, thinking he was special only because he was the only one of the seven who was able to age like a human. As if that made him one.

Together, Lust and Gluttony made their way through the darkened hallways until they reached the Fuhrer's own bed chamber. Pride was there waiting for them, looking out the window at the dark blur of Lior on the sandy hill facing them. She couldn't see them in the darkness, but Lust knew that the newest tanks from Central waited on the dunes, just waiting to be deployed.

"Pride, why did you delay the attack?" she demanded, stalking towards him. "I thought you were supposed to send in the troops hours ago."

"Do you wish to file a complaint, Lust?" he said coldly, not turning from his scrutiny.

Lust scowled at him. "Scar's counting on you to send in those troops. He's going to use their lives to transmute the Philosopher's Stone, yet you seem hell-bent on fouling it up! I don't understand-"

He cut across her. "Fortunately, that's not your department. You'll have to take it up with the boss."

Lust felt her blood run cold, and she gasped despite herself; she heard Gluttony do the same behind her as he began to tremble.

"I'm not sure what our master's intentions are," Pride continued, "but I know these orders are absolute."

Gluttony feebly tugged on her dress, like a small child pleading with his mother. "Lust..."

Lust tugged the black fabric away from Gluttony's thick fingers, her hands curling into fists. "I can't accept that. If Scar is going to create the Philosopher's Stone, I'm going to help him."

Pride turned to look at her, unimpressed. "Don't you think you're taking this infatuated schoolgirl routine a bit too far? We're alive because of our master. Don't forget that, Lust."

"We _aren't_ alive," Lust murmured bitterly. "That's exactly why we've been searching for the Philosopher's Stone." She bit her lip, knowing she had already given away too much, and spun on her heel. "I guess I'll have to take care of this myself," she snapped. "Thanks for nothing. Gluttony!"

She looked over her shoulder, but her fat companion hovered uncertainly, looking between Lust and Pride with fear and confusion. "But...Master..."

In disgust, Lust turned and left her colleagues behind. If they were too timid to do what needed to be done, then _she_ would do it.

* * *

Lust slipped back into Lior just as the sun was rising. The streets were even more deserted than they had been; the entire city was as silent as the grave. The townspeople obviously knew the military was waiting to invade, so they were probably hiding out somewhere, if they hadn't found some way to escape. The sound of her high heels clacking on the cobbled streets echoed off the stone buildings rising up on either side, but all else was silent. So when she heard the sound of voices in the distance, she knew she had found what she sought.

Walking more carefully, Lust slipped through the shadows and alleyways until she was close enough to see what was happening. Scar stood, breathing heavily, at one end of the street. Lust noted with shock that his entire left arm was missing, though his tattooed arm seemed intact. Blood drenched his side, but he barely seemed to notice. He stood staring in shock at Alphonse Elric – whatever _he_ was doing here. The suit of armor stood rooted to the ground, a strange black substance slowly seeping up his legs.

"What's wrong...with my body?" the boy whimpered fearfully, staring down at himself.

Scar swore loudly and grabbed what Lust had at first assumed to be a pile of debris, but which turned out to be a man. She caught her breath when she saw his face and recognized Kimbley, the Crimson Alchemist, who had recently been released from prison to help push Scar towards transmuting the Stone. But it was obvious he had failed; blood poured from several wounds, and he laughed weakly as Scar glared at him.

If the whole street had not been deathly quiet, Lust would have had a hard time hearing the dying alchemist. "Just so you know..." he murmured, "I only specialize in _making_ bombs. You'll have to take it up with someone else to reverse that, because I'm about to retire." As if to prove his point, he began to cough and blood gushed out of his mouth. "Don't worry," he chuckled weakly at Scar's expression of outrage. "You still have plenty of time. I've made his armor react slowly with the oxygen in the air, so he can _enjoy_ the precious time he has left. I want him to have time to think about his death...and think...about how meaningless his efforts have been..."

The voice trailed away, and Scar dropped the body on the ground in disgusted fury. "No!" Alphonse cried desperately, taking a step backward. "It has to be a lie!" But his black legs twisted beneath him and collapsed, sending him toppling to the ground with a crash. "My body..." he whimpered. "I'm scared..."

As if responding to this plea, Scar turned from his contemplation of his dead enemy and approached the boy. "Don't move, Alphonse Elric." To Lust's horror, he reached out his remaining hand toward the suit of armor – the hand that housed the souls of all those people, all those precious ingredients. "I'm not sure what's happening with your body, but if I make a mistake in reversing the transmutation-"

Lust knew she had to step in, or Scar would do something stupid. "I wouldn't touch him if I were you," she called out, stalking closer.

Scar straightened up when he saw her. "You're that Homunculus," he muttered.

Alphonse gasped, "Homunculus?"

Lust kept her eyes trained on Scar, keeping a tight rein on her thoughts so they wouldn't stray to that strange man in her memories. She knew she had to keep Scar focused on his original goal of creating the Philosopher's Stone, without getting sidetracked by this sudden, inexplicable pity for an alchemist boy he had once tried to kill. "That arm's only good for destroying things, not remaking them. Now, if Edward were here, he'd be able to transmute his brother into some other substance, disrupting Kimbley's alchemy and stopping this bomb."

Scar frowned, his eyes unfocusing as he slowly murmured, "Transmute him...into another substance?" It was something of a new concept to him, she figured; normally he only broke things down.

Taking a few steps forward, Lust reached out and clasped Scar's hand with both of her own. "Let's go," she said, using her soft, seductive voice. "He's a lost cause. You have to think of yourself now, and your own goal of forging the Stone."

To her surprise, Scar jerked his hand from her grasp and scowled at her. "Just as I thought," he growled. "You aren't my brother's love. The woman I knew would never have acted so heartless and cold." He turned and walked several paces away, to the other side of the fallen suit of armor.

For a moment, Lust remained rooted to the ground. _My brother's love. _Was this the answer? The man who kept on appearing in her mind _was_ from Ishbal, like Scar... She knew Homunculi were created from attempts at resurrecting the dead, so what if...Scar had known her while she was alive?

Pulling herself together, Lust murmured, "I'm afraid I can't remember anything."

Scar bent and picked up a dusty, torn green cloak from the ground and awkwardly tied it back around his shoulders with his one remaining hand. "I didn't expect you to. You are not the person that my brother so desperately attempted to resurrect. You just look like her."

Yes, it was all starting to come together now. Lust smiled confidently. "But I _will_ be her, once the Philosopher's Stone turns me into a human-"

"No you won't," Scar cut across her.

Lust was surprised at the quiet vehemence in his voice. "How do you know?" she demanded.

His red eyes burned directly into hers, and he placed a hand on Alphonse's side. "Because the dead can never come back to life."

"What are you trying to do?" Lust snarled, stepping towards him. "Stop!"

"Stay back!" More than his words, the locket dangling from Scar's remaining fist halted Lust in her tracks. Why did that piece of jewelry send chills into her very soul? Scar's lip curled as he said, "Now just shut your mouth and watch."

One-handed, Scar knotted the locket around the band of Alphonse's loincloth. Lust swore quietly as she realized she was completely powerless to stop him now. Taking a deep breath, Scar placed his palm against the armor once again and closed his eyes. After a moment, the lines twining up his arm glowed bright red, and the glow spread to Alphonse's entire body. Suddenly, Scar began to scream as though his soul was being rent in two, and Lust took a horrified step back as she watched his entire right arm sinking down into the armor, becoming one with the steel. The thick black lines of the ancient Ishbalite sorcery spread across Alphonse's darkening body, making the whole suit of armor a transmutation circle...for the Philosopher's Stone.

"What have you done?" Lust howled as the light faded away.

Scar stood up, trembling from exertion, both of his arms now nothing but bloody stumps. "My brother...gave me that arm," he said laboriously, looking down at his handiwork. "He trapped the souls of the dying Ishbalites inside it...by turning his own body into a transmutation circle."

Lust nodded impatiently; she had heard all about this from her master. "He did that for good reason – to create the Philosopher's Stone inside himself. A gift that he passed on to you. So that means..."

"Don't even try to get near him," Scar muttered, beginning to walk away. "There's nothing you can do about it but sit back and watch."

Lust stared incredulously at the boy lying silently on the cobblestones. When she turned back to Scar, he was already halfway up the street. "Are you out of your mind?" she cried, hurrying after him. "You intend to turn this boy into the Philosopher's Stone?!"

"Better that than a bomb." Scar didn't even spare her a glance. "You said that if we changed his body into something else, he wouldn't explode. It was the only way I could help."

_And since when are you the knight on a white charger?_ she wanted to scream at him, but she restrained herself with difficulty. Humans! Always ruining their plans, and now this blind fool stood between her and her heart's desire. "And what about the actual Stone?" she growled. "Don't tell me you're planning to hand it over to those boys when you're done!"

Scar's lips compressed into a worried line. "I don't even know if it will succeed. But if by some miracle it does, the Stone will be theirs. They can do with it what they want."

Lust stopped in shock, but Scar continued on his way. Let _them_ have the Stone, after swearing up and down that he would kill every State Alchemist who breathed? What had happened to this man? This tool that had seemed so promising? Rage welled up inside her, and she shot two fingers past his face, one on either side. Scar stopped, held at bay by their sharp edges. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that," she called furiously. "I need you to make the real Philosopher's Stone, you understand? Don't waste all your work, all the work of your brother, just to save that boy! How is that going to fulfill your dreams?"

"If you kill me where I stand, would that help you make _your_ dream come true?"

Lust was so stunned by his words she barely even noticed when Scar began to walk forward again. She stared at the back of his head as he walked unflinchingly to his own death. Her dream... _Strong arms held her close. She could feel her body growing heavier by the moment, but his voice broke through her fading consciousness. "No! Don't leave me! I-I'll do anything..."_

She dropped her hand by her side. How did he _know?_ Shaken, Lust passed a hand over her face and tried to pull herself together again. "Fine, then," she sniffed, tossing her head as she began to follow Scar again. "If there _does_ come a time when a Stone is made, I'll find a way to use it myself." She spared one last glance over her shoulder at Alphonse Elric. "I'll just have to take it from those brats, that's all."


	4. The Philosopher's Stone

**Chapter Four ~ The Philosopher's Stone**

From her vantage point on one of the many flat rooftops, Lust watched the military advance into Lior. The troops moved methodically through the empty streets, kicking down doors and pointing their rifles menacingly into every shadow. But the people were long gone, so they found no victims. Lust wasn't sure where the townsfolk were; it irked her that the plan had gone so awry.

Clicking her tongue irritably, Lust turned and silently dropped back to the ground on the other side of the building. Scar was making his way inexorably to the center of town – to the center of the transmutation circle he had carved through the entire city. It wasn't hard to find him again – he left steady trails of blood at every step. His face was pale behind his tanned complexion, but he seemed to have drawn strength from some inner reserve, a strength born of desperation that Lust had heard the Ishbalites had often exhibited during the war. Though he knew the end was near, still he pressed on.

"The military wasn't supposed to move yet," Lust muttered crisply as she matched Scar's long strides.

"Then this must truly be the will of Ishbala," Scar said in an insufferably calm voice.

Suddenly, as they rushed past a side street, Lust saw out of the corner of her eye a young soldier. "There he is!" the man yelped in surprise, raising his rifle. "I found Scar!"

Even as Lust turned to face him, raising a hand to defend herself, the soldier pulled the trigger. For an instant Lust expected to feel the sharp, irritating bite of bullets, but before she could curse her own slowness, a green blur rushed in front of her. Lust stepped back in surprise as Scar jerked several times, three bullets slamming into his chest. The young recruit seemed just as astonished as she, and stopped firing as Scar slumped to the ground.

And as Lust stared in shock at the fresh blood staining his green cloak, the warmth of that blood seemed to seep down her arms and into her fingers. Slowly, she raised her eyes to the young soldier, and he flinched in fear as their gazes met. Raising her hand, she shot two fingers through his neck and ripped them back out, letting the lifeless body fall backwards.

Kneeling down by Scar's side, Lust saw that he was still breathing. She heaved him upright, knowing they had to get out of the open. Someone would have heard that soldier's cry. "You fool," she muttered, staring at the entry wounds. "I don't die that easily."

"I know..." he gasped, screwing his eyes shut against the pain. "But I couldn't...control myself. My body has a will of its own..."

What was _that_ supposed to mean? Shaking her head, Lust heaved him to his feet. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

* * *

Ducking into one of the many abandoned houses along the street, Lust and Scar lay low while the military advanced into the empty city. Since Scar had gotten rid of both arms, it fell to Lust to staunch the flow of blood as best she could, using his cloak and any other rags she could find. She did her best, but they both knew he didn't have long. Normally, Lust wouldn't care, but now she was determined to get some answers.

After heaving him to a sitting position against one wall, Lust crossed her arms and leaned against the opposite wall. "You mentioned your brother's lover," she said softly, just in case soldiers were near.

"Yes." Scar let out a labored sigh and rested his head against the windowsill behind him. His red eyes stared at the ceiling, gazing sadly through the stone to a time long past. "Back when Ishbal was still a peaceful land, I had an older brother. An intelligent, respectable brother I admired. He was in love with a young woman." His expression softened, the hard lines of hatred smoothing into an expression of tenderness Lust had never expected to see on his face. "The most beautiful I had ever seen. They had plans to marry, but as fate would have it, she fell ill with a fatal disease, and all too soon was called home to Ishbala."

But then the grief in Scar's face hardened, and he lowered his gaze back to Lust. "My brother was grief-stricken, as were we all. But rather than learning to live with his grief and move on, he insisted on attempting the forbidden."

Lust nodded. "Human transmutation," she breathed. That was how every Homunculus was made, after all. How often she had wondered who had brought her to life again! She had never really believed she would ever find out, but now everything was slowly falling into place. Those memories that kept haunting her, with the Ishbalite man begging her not to leave...they were of her death. Now the images came clearer to her mind. She could see the resemblance to Scar in that man's features, and she remembered him clutching that locket tightly as he sobbed over her dying body.

"In his attempt to bring her back, my brother committed heresy, defying the teachings of Ishbala. But even after he gave his own flesh, she did not return. My brother was exiled...for the shadow of an impossible dream."

Lust looked at the hardness of his gaze, and remembered how he insisted that she was not the same as this Ishbalite woman. But pain oozed from the weathered creases at the corners of his eyes – pain caused by more than his grievous wounds. A note of longing twisted through his voice, confirming her suspicions once and for all. She murmured, "You loved me as well...didn't you?"

Scar's lip curled bitterly. "Not you. Her." He shifted, wincing as he tried to push himself farther up the wall. His breath was even more labored as he continued, "I hated...my brother so _much._ He turned his back on the teachings of Ishbala to immerse himself in the sacrilege of alchemy. And even though I knew he'd given me...his arm to save my life...still I could only despise him. There was no room in my hate-filled heart for forgiveness."

Lust stared, captivated, at the trembling of Scar's jaw. The humanity of his hatred, his bitterness, his torment... How she longed to feel those emotions herself. She had never cared about anyone or anything enough to glare as Scar now glared at the floor between his feet.

"But the Elric brothers..." Scar murmured, breaking into her thoughts. "They live only for each other."

"That's true," she murmured, remembering how easily she had manipulated Edward by threatening to break the armored boy's blood seal. She remembered the desperation in his eyes as he began to go against every dearly-held principle, willing to do anything if it meant he could save his brother. What did that feel like, to value another that much? To be valued that much in return?

Scar squeezed his eyes shut and whispered through trembling lips, "Seeing their...love for each other...it made me...long to say those words for myself: 'Brother...I love you.'" And the heartless murderer began to weep.

"So that's why you did the same thing for this younger brother," Lust realized. "As your older brother did for you."

Instead of answering, Scar drew one knee close to his body and rested his forehead against it for a moment. Once he had collected himself, he pushed himself to his feet with obvious effort, leaving a wide streak of blood against the wall. His breathing was more ragged than ever and he staggered into a wall, but he doggedly made his slow way to the door. "Get going," he forced out. "This life of wickedness has one closing act."

"Wait," Lust said as he was about to step through the doorway. "What is your real name?"

Scar hesitated, his back to her so she could not see his expression. "Our names are sacred things, given to us by Ishbala. Long ago, this body did have a holy name. But that person...died long ago from a life of sin, malice, and retribution. I no longer deserve a name."

He stepped into the light and stubbornly trudged down the street that would lead to his transmutation circle. The cries of soldiers, the rattle of gunfire, and the pounding of feet seemed of minimal importance next to his purpose. Lust watched him go, knowing she should be getting out of range of the transmutation circle before he activated it, but rooted to the spot all the same.

Lust let out a long sigh. "Goodbye...Scar."

* * *

Lust stood at a safe distance in the wilderness surrounding Lior and watched the city erupt into blood-red light. The glaring pillars of alchemic power rocketed to the sky, as though they scratched the very heavens. Everything within the giant circle was instantly vaporized – the buildings people had called home, the streets that once teemed with commerce, the soldiers that now foolishly flooded the city in pursuit of a man who would already be dead.

Somehow, though Lust had been waiting all her life for the day the Philosopher's Stone would be within her grasp, the transmutation sent shudders down her spine now. She should care nothing for the humans whose souls were being ripped from their bodies and turned into raw power, condensed into a single stone. But she couldn't get the thought of Scar out of her head, the way he limped doggedly towards his own doom, missing both arms and bleeding from a dozen places at once...but doing this willingly so that Alphonse Elric would not die.

Humanity.

When the transmutation died down and the light faded away, all that remained of Lior was a flat stretch of sand that blended into the desert from which this oasis had sprung. A city that, even with the help of a fake Philosopher's Stone, had taken years to build into a bustling metropolis, reduced to dust in mere minutes. Slowly, Lust made her way to the center where she knew she would find the boy. She ignored the heat blazing up from the sands and soaking into her dark clothing, and trudged steadily onward.

Finally she came upon the one she sought, and slowed her pace. The suit of armor stood on top of a dune, and before him stood Edward, as though he had sprouted from the ground. "Open your breastplate, Al," he was saying in a low, tense voice. "Just do it."

Lust stopped short as Alphonse unfastened the leather straps and swung his breastplate open. There, in the empty cavity of his chest, shone a brilliant red light that dazzled her eyes even from this distance. The Philosopher's Stone.

"Brother," Alphonse breathed, "what is this?"

"Well, Al," Edward said in a slow, shocked murmur, "a minute ago the transmutation circle in Lior was activated. Scar transmuted the Philosopher's Stone. Not within himself, but..."

"You've hit the nail on the head, boy," Lust spoke up. Her whole body felt heavy and tired, and very little seemed important anymore. She turned to Alphonse. "Your body has been transmuted into the Philosopher's Stone. Now the very thing you've been searching for is attached to your soul."

The boy gasped. "You mean...I _am_ the Philosopher's Stone?"

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Edward yelled, looking horrified. "Why would Scar do that?"

_I wish I knew. I wish I understood._ Lust turned away, knowing full well she would be punished for what she was about to do. "You should go," she said softly. "It won't be long before everyone's after you. My colleagues as well as the State."

"What about you?" Edward asked suspiciously. "I thought you were after the Stone, too."

But Lust ignored him and began to walk to her own doom. Humanity lay mere feet away in the glowing cavity of Alphonse's armor, the fulfillment of every dream she could ever remember having. Why was she walking away from it, following in the footsteps of the man who had given Alphonse Elric his life back? She wasn't sure. She had no older brother to turn into an excuse. And she was not human, so general compassion was out of the question.


	5. A Rotten Heart

**Chapter Five ~ A Rotten Heart**

Lust knew she had made a grave mistake. Scar's deep, charismatic voice had exposed her weakness, and now she was suffering her just punishment. But even as she told herself to accept her master's verdict, the rebel inside her protested against the five silver blades pinning her to the wall of the enormous ballroom in her master's lair. She had long since ceased to feel the dull ache, but she kept as still as she could, careful not to pull on her arms that were stretched out to either side, crucifix-style. She could only breathe shallowly past the blade stuck directly through her Ouroborus tattoo, but since she was immortal it was only a minor inconvenience.

More irritating to her than the cold silver in her flesh was the group of Homunculi surrounding her. Gluttony maintained a worried silence, hovering about by her feet, but Sloth and Wrath had kept up a tirade for ten minutes straight. At least Envy wasn't here to shoot off his mouth like he always did.

Sloth paced back and forth, her high heels echoing around the enormous ballroom of the mansion they called home. After tucking a lock of her shiny brown hair behind one ear, Sloth turned once again to frown at Lust. "Why did you let those two get away?" she demanded.

"I believe taking care of the brothers was _your_ duty," Lust sneered back. "Wasn't it, Sloth? And yours too, Wrath."

The small boy grinned cruelly from his lounging position on the nearby mantelpiece. "Don't worry, I'll get my hands on them soon enough," he muttered.

"Maybe so," Sloth interrupted, "but _we_ didn't go against the direct orders of our master."

Lust stared at her. She knew who Sloth was, who she had been before the human transmutation. Lust and Sloth, two of the youngest Homunculi, who saw people of their own generation still walking around and breathing. Lust had always assumed Sloth felt the same confusion, the same insecurity she had struggled with for so long. "I thought that you, of all people, would understand my reasons."

Sloth met her gaze for a long moment as though weighing her words, then said softly, "I do understand. You wish to be human." The ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "You think you're the only one? We were all born with that goal in mind."

Before she could say any more, the great double doors of the ballroom swung open with an echoing creak. Wrath gasped and dropped down from his mantelpiece, and the other two immediately knelt low. Lust didn't dare even to glance over at the door; she didn't need to. A tremor shook her body, sending pain shooting up her arms from the silver blades.

Their master had arrived.

* * *

Lust kept still, trying not to count the hours that stretched out her time of punishment. She didn't know when they would end, or if they ever would. The Homunculi's master hadn't even spared her a glance as she entered the mansion. The lack of even acknowledging that Lust was hanging there was the most stinging reproach she had ever received. She could feel her spirits sinking lower and lower with every moment that ticked by, and she wondered now what could ever have possessed her to shirk her duty so utterly. The Philosopher's Stone had been within her grasp! It would have been so easy...but...

Suddenly they heard a loud rumbling from outside, and Lust wearily raised her eyes to the doors. Gluttony, who had been sitting glumly at her feet the entire time, scrambled to his feet. "Someone's coming!" he whined.

"Don't worry, Gluttony," Lust murmured, the silver blade throbbing within her chest at every word. "This place is-"

But before she could finish, the doors blasted open, letting in clouds of dust. Apparently, someone had destroyed enough of this alchemically-sealed building to gain entrance. A man stepped into the light, calmly striding across the ballroom. He was a tall, strong man with a long blonde ponytail and glasses, dressed in a trench coat much too warm for this time of year.

"Who's that?" Gluttony whispered, but Lust had never seen him before either. She wondered if she should try to call out for the others, but she doubted she could draw enough breath for that.

They all turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. The master gracefully descended the marble stairs at the back of the ballroom. Her current form was that of a young woman with shoulder-length black hair and an elegant maroon gown that covered her from neck to ankles. She fit her surroundings perfectly, as though she really lived in this forgotten city buried beneath the earth.

"How good of you to come," she said meekly, curtseying to the intruder like a common maid. "Unfortunately, my master is out-"

"Dante, is that the body of the girl named Lyra?" the man asked coldly, not fooled by this act.

Dante straightened, smiling coyly. "I'm surprised you could tell, Hohenheim. It's nice to know you've been thinking about me while you were away."

Lust narrowed her eyes. Who was this man? How did he know her master?

"I heard the name Lyra from my sons," Hohenheim said, as unmoved as a statue. "But even if I hadn't, it's fairly obvious. You can't hide the smell of that perfume."

Dante's smile slipped a notch before she hitched it back up again. "So, have you come to aid me?"

"No." Hohenheim sighed, suddenly looking much older than he had before. "Not this time, Dante. Quite the opposite."

That snuffed out Dante's smile completely. "Gluttony!" she barked.

With a gleeful giggle, Gluttony charged forward, forgetting his fear in the face of a new meal. But Hohenheim didn't seem fazed in the slightest; he simply clapped his hands and transmuted spikes from the floor that slammed into Gluttony's gut and forced him back. The Homunculus rose again immediately, holding his stomach as its regenerative powers repaired itself. "Scary..." he murmured.

_He doesn't need a transmutation circle either?_ Lust wondered. She had thought Dante, Edward Elric, and his teacher were the only alchemists who could manage that feat. And there was something in the way this Hohenheim performed his alchemy – casual, nonchalant, as though he barely even had to think of what he was doing. Lust had fought Edward and watched his battles enough times to become accustomed to the way the boy's brows contracted slightly as he transmuted, concentrating on the circle in his mind. Hohenheim was swift and efficient, radiating power that might even surpass Dante's.

"There's no need to worry, Gluttony," Dante said calmly, seemingly unsurprised at Hohenheim's actions. "He's spent too much time in that body he's wearing. I'm sure he's at his limit."

Wearing a body... Lust knew what that meant. She remembered when Dante had first come to them in the form of the girl named Lyra, so different from the old crone she had occupied before. Lust didn't quite understand how that had worked, but Hohenheim must be the same.

Dante pressed her palms together as if in prayer, and stone goblins rose from the floor. They rushed towards Hohenheim as though filled with demonic life, but before they even came close, he transmuted as well. Lust started painfully as she saw armored beings appear out of nowhere, shimmering and translucent as though made from light itself. The shape of these beings reminded her strongly of Alphonse.

After only a few short seconds, the illuminated suits of armor overpowered the stone gargoyles and dissipated again. Hohenheim hadn't even broken into a sweat. "I may be at my limit," he said as though their conversation hadn't been interrupted at all, "but I bet you're feeling your years as well, aren't you?"

He made a gesture too fast for Lust to follow, and a slit appeared in Dante's dress, exposing the skin of her slim waist. Lust stared at the decaying flesh suddenly exposed to the air, the skin curling and splitting, already a rotten brown color. She felt sick just looking at it. "You may hide your decaying body with clothes," Hohenheim murmured, "but that masking scent betrays your lie."

Dante flinched, covering the rotten flesh with one hand. "Like you, Hohenheim?"

He ignored this feeble jab. "Dante, I want you to stop using my sons as pawns in your malicious game." His voice, which had been soft up to this point, now rang sharply around the ballroom. "In exchange for that promise, I will tell you the reason your new body is rotting already."

For a moment, Dante looked as though she might scream. But then her expression softened and she smiled at Hohenheim through half-lidded eyes. "Oh," she purred, "but it's been _centuries_ since our last meeting, Hohenheim. We'll have plenty of time to talk later. Right now, why don't you help me enjoy this new body?"

Lust thought the effect would have been perfect had she not still clasped a hand to her side, covering up her rotting flesh. Hohenheim smiled and shook his head, as if to say, _Some things never change._ "Sorry, but I have a _wife._"

"So? I was married as well, wasn't I?" She laughed lightly and raised her smooth, young arms to the gilded ceiling. "Again and again and again! After all, if I stayed with one of them, he'd have noticed my slowly aging body and our secret would be out." She lowered her arms, almost seeming to invite him into an embrace. "And you, Hohenheim?"

He calmly replied, "Trisha Elric is my first and last – the only woman I ever truly loved."

Lust was watching her master's face, and caught the hurt that briefly flashed across her face before her mask slid into place once more. "Oh?" Dante said in mock surprise. "Four hundred years ago, back when I was still an innocent, you whispered sweet words of love in my ear. Or do my memories deceive me?"

Hohenheim closed his eyes as if in physical pain. "Can we please stop this?"

But Dante was relentless. Lust could see triumph lighting up her master's face as she lashed back at this man. "On that day four hundred years ago, we had finally achieved our goal. By using the lives of those sentenced to hang during the witch hunts, and those who were dying of the plague, by repeating our experiments relentlessly, despite countless failures...we finally grasped it: the Philosopher's Stone."

Lust's heart pounded painfully against the stake pinning her to the wall. What was this about? Dante had already made a Stone? Where was that Stone now?

Dante's eyes glittered as she watched Hohenheim's resigned expression, as though waiting for the moment when he would break. "But the demands of the transmutation took its toll on you. You were dying. On sheer impulse, I attached your soul to the body of another man. And it was then that we discovered...eternal life."

"You mean," Lust gasped with a massive effort, "you've used the Philosopher's Stone to transplant your souls again and again?"

"Yes, that's right."

"What?" Lust strained against the stakes holding her still against the wall. "Then why did you have us find someone to make the Stone if you already had one?!"

Dante barely spared her a moment of attention, keeping her gaze fixed on her former lover. "After Hohenheim left my side, I needed a new Stone, and I didn't know how to make one on my own. That's why." She bit her lip, suddenly looking like the young girl her body made her out to be. "Tell me: Why did you leave? Wasn't eternal life enough for you?"

"Dante." At last, Hohenheim met her gaze, his eyebrows contracting in a manner strikingly similar to his son. "There is no such thing as eternal life."

Dante scoffed impatiently, tossing her pretty head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means your soul is rotting."

Slowly, Dante's eyes narrowed, as though she were trying to hide how shocked and frightened she really was. "How can my soul...be rotting?"

"Not even souls are invincible," Hohenheim replied heavily. "Each time we leap to another body, we leave a little strength behind. Now our souls no longer have the energy to maintain a body. You have to face the truth, Dante: It won't be long until we die."

Lust stared at them both. Die? Her immortal master? Impossible! But no...she could see now, looking back on all their plots, that Dante had grown more and more desperate as time went on. Because she was trying to escape death.

But Dante quickly pulled herself back together. "I won't die," she said, smiling again. "I just need the Philosopher's Stone. I'll take a new body-"

"And pretty soon, that body will rot as well," Hohenheim finished, "and the next one will go even quicker."

Dante's hand curled into a fist against her rotting flesh. "Then I'll just transfer again!"

"And what about the Philosopher's Stone? How will you keep transferring your soul? You must have already used up the small fragment I left you."

At this, triumph once again spread across her face. "I forgot you haven't been keeping up. Thanks to a clever Ishbalite alchemist and a decade's worth of labor, one of your precious sons has been turned into a new Philosopher's Stone."

Finally, Dante had managed to say something that caught Hohenheim by surprise. He gasped just as something clicked into place in Lust's mind. Dante had been the one behind the Ishbal War, of course, but Lust had always assumed that was another failure, since Scar's brother had never managed to complete the Stone. Was she saying now that it had all been part of the plan? That Lior, and Scar... "You intended Scar to do that all along!" she cried. "You were going to use the full power of the Stone for _yourself!_ You lied to me!"

Dante shrugged, turning her attention back to Hohenheim. She had set up this entire conflict, forced Scar into the vengeful killer he had become, manipulated him to give up his very life so that Alphonse Elric could live...and she only shrugged. The hope and belief Lust had always had in her leader steadily crumbled away as she realized that all along, she had merely been used as a tool. Lust had been searching for the Philosopher's Stone all these years so that she could one day become human like Dante. But now she realized...Dante was not human. She was a monster.

She was so focused on her own thoughts that Lust paid little attention to the rest of the conversation. Her limbs had already been cold from remaining in the same position for so long, but now that coldness seemed to enter the heart that was pierced with the silver stake. The warmth of humanity seemed farther away than ever, and she was left with only despair.

But when Sloth smoothly strode down the stairs, carrying a baby they had obtained in Lior, Lust returned to herself. Dante took the child into her arms as gently as if it were her own, and Sloth rushed at Hohenheim, who stood rooted to the ground with shock. It took Lust a moment to understand why he merely stood there, letting Sloth wrap her amorphous body tightly around him, holding him in place like a snake made of water. Then she remembered: Sloth had been made from his wife, Trisha Elric. Edward and Alphonse's mother.

"I continued my research, even after you had gone," Dante said conversationally, striding towards him with the baby in her arms. "Primarily on the Gate, which is the source of our alchemic power. I've discovered some fascinating things, Hohenheim. Would you like to know what lies beyond the Gate?"

Hohenheim looked stonily back at her, seemingly resigned to his fate. He carefully averted his eyes from Sloth's face, as though it caused him pain.

Dante smiled cruelly at him. "You can't say you haven't been just a _little_ bit curious. Did you know part of the Gate is actually within all of us? As our consciousness matures and we grow more attached to this world, we lose our awareness of it. But by using someone whose link is still strong, like a baby, the Gate can be summoned." She caressed Hohenheim's cheek, leaning in but stopping just short of kissing him. "I'm going to show you, my darling," she murmured. "See for yourself just what is beyond the Gate."

She ripped the cloths away from the baby, and Lust saw a transmutation circle inscribed on his smooth stomach. The naked baby bawled at this rude awakening, but Dante ignored him, slapped her hand on the transmutation circle, and tossed the baby into the air. The tiny boy twisted in the air, screaming with all his might, helplessly waving arms and legs in a wordless plea. Sloth retreated just in time as the golden light of the transmutation circle enveloped the whole room. Lust cringed and closed her eyes till the glow faded away, and even then, she waited a few moments before opening them again. She had no desire to see that Gate again.

By the time she dared to look, Hohenheim had disappeared into the Gate and Dante was calmly transmuting a portion of the baby's cloth to cover the slit in her dress. She tossed the rest of it aside, for now there was no child who needed it. Before Lust could say anything, Wrath suddenly raced through the room, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Shut up, shut up, shut _up!_" the boy screamed, gripping his long, dark hair and rushing to Sloth, who gathered him silently into her arms. Lust watched them in disgust; the brat acted this way every time he was around the baby.

"It's okay, Wrath," Dante said, seemingly satisfied. "You don't ever have to go back to the other side of that gate. Now, bring me the Philosopher's Stone – Wrath, Sloth, and...Lust."

Before Lust realized what was happening, the stakes pinning her to the wall disintegrated and she fell to the floor, barely catching herself on hands and knees. Her entire body felt stiff, so she waited with head bowed for the circulation to return to her limbs. Once the skin had knitted back over the places where the blades had pierced, she muttered bitterly, "Why should we? So you can be reborn once again?"

"Once I obtain the Stone and transfer my soul, I will make you all human." She sounded dismissive, as though Lust's complaints were only wasting her time. "Of course...that will depend on your performance, won't it?"

Lust gritted her teeth and curled her hands into fists. She would do as she was told, of course. Just as she always had. And it would probably bring her no closer to the humanity she so coveted...but what other chance would she have?


	6. Betrayal

**Chapter Six ~ Betrayal**

Lust had only rarely worked alongside Sloth, but she soon discovered that she vastly preferred Gluttony and Envy's company. Those two were hot with desire – Gluttony wanted to eat everything, Envy wanted to see everything destroyed – but Sloth was as cold as ice. No emotion showed through on her placid face as she tracked down the Elric brothers; no shred of the human she had once been ever showed through. Lust wondered if those boys had really sacrificed themselves for someone like _this. _And Wrath was just annoying – a whiny child who clung to his 'mother' and just happened to be invincible.

But Lust kept her thoughts to herself and tried not to think about what they were helping their master accomplish. They managed to trace the brothers' movements to a small town one train stop before Dublith, then to a tiny ramshackle hut on the outskirts of town. It was anyone's guess what they were doing there, but Lust supposed it was just their attempt at going into hiding. The three Homunculi carefully entered the house, but soon it became clear that the brothers had already left. The two bare, dusty rooms were completely empty except for a rusting iron bedstead and a tipsy chest of drawers. Tell-tale footprints had disturbed the dust – large, heavy ones and smaller ones that were darker in the left foot.

Wrath immediately started jumping on the creaky springs of the bedstead, and Sloth stood frowning slightly out the window. Annoyed with both of them, Lust turned to the chest of drawers and noticed a detail her companions had overlooked. "There's a note here," she told them. "It says, 'Brother: I've gone to Tucker's place.'"

Sloth languidly came over to look at the note too, but Wrath just kept jumping on the bed. "Shou Tucker," Sloth murmured thoughtfully. "I thought he ran away from Pride at Lior." She shrugged with supreme unconcern and began to leave.

"Wait." Lust frowned. All the signs suggested this note was from Alphonse to Edward, and judging from the lack of dust, it had been written recently. That meant the brothers were temporarily separated and had agreed to meet up here, but Alphonse had decided to find the alchemist named Tucker instead. Shou Tucker, who had run away, wouldn't let the Elric brothers find him unless he had some use for them. "So why do you think old Tucker got in contact with him all of a sudden?"

Sloth tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Isn't it obvious? He wants to complete that useless chimera he's obsessed with."

Lust's eyes narrowed. "You mean his daughter."

Sloth didn't seem to hear how tight Lust's voice was, continuing calmly, "Tucker learned a lot about the Stone while working in Laboratory 5. He knows what it's capable of."

_What it's capable of..._ Lust thought of the suit of armor that glowed crimson inside, and she spoke without thinking. "If he learned that much about the way the Stone works, then he must know enough to teach the boy how to use it...and if so..."

"Don't even think that, Lust." Sloth's voice was surprisingly sad as she turned to Wrath, letting a curtain of hair fall over her face. "It's useless. Wrath, dear, take care of things while I'm gone."

Wrath immediately dropped down from the bed, his face falling. "You're leaving?" he whined.

Sloth smiled fondly down at him, accepting his tight hug and smoothing down his long, unkempt hair. "For a little while," she murmured. "I have to find our runaway Philosopher's Stone, but you should stay here in case Edward comes back. Okay?"

"'Kay," Wrath mumbled indistinctly against her stomach.

Lust watched this display, feeling a gulf opening between her and her fellow Homunculi. Even the cold, uncaring Sloth was more human that she would ever be.

* * *

As predicted, Edward came back to the abandoned house. Lust and Wrath waited silently in the adjoining room, watching the boy's approach through a crack in the door. "Al?" he called. When he saw that the room was completely empty, he rushed in. "Al!"

Then he spotted the note, and bent over it to read the message. "That _idiot,_" he muttered. Lust took her cue and quietly slipped into the room behind him, extending a single sharp finger to rest gently on the soft, vulnerable hollow in the back of his neck.

"You're looking well," she remarked lightly, "for a fugitive of the military."

Edward stiffened, but her razor-sharp finger kept him from moving. "My brother told me who you really are."

"I'm nothing but myself," she replied coldly.

"Wrong!" He ducked and rolled out of the way, and Lust shot her fingers out a moment too late. They slammed into the chest of drawers, piercing right through the wood. But as soon as they did, a horrible chill ran down her spine. With difficulty, she managed to pull her hand back from the wreckage of the ancient chest of drawers. Sure enough, the locket that had belonged to Scar's brother was now tangled between her fingers. Bone-aching coldness started at her fingertips and spread across her whole body till she couldn't move.

"I told you!" Edward yelled. "I know who you really were!" She couldn't move her eyes to look at him, but she heard the tell-tale clap and crackle of alchemy, and knew that he could cut her down without any resistance.

Wrath, however, darted past Lust's fixed line of vision. Soon the sounds of Edward and Wrath fighting wavered and petered out, replaced by the rushing in her ears. She almost thought she could hear Scar's brother's voice again, begging her not to leave him. An answering voice bubbled up from her heart. _I want to join you,_ it said. _Oh, I _want_ to join you!_

"Snap out of it!"

Lust jerked, drawing in a shuddering breath as the frigid locket broke away from her grasp. Wrath stood glaring at her, clutching it in one hand and pointing with the other to Edward, who was struggling to his feet, coughing for breath. "Kill him!" When Lust didn't respond, Wrath stomped his bare foot. "You know what'll happen if we have to go back there and tell her we failed again!"

Automatically, Lust raised her fingers and shot them at the boy again. But by this time Edward had recovered, and he leapt out the window to escape, scattering shattered bits of glass all over the alleyway outside. He ran for the end of the alleyway, but Lust broke through the wall and dropped down in front of him. Wrath followed, blocking off his retreat. "Kill him now, Lust!"

Lust gazed into Edward's eyes as he panted, readying himself for an attack even though he had to know he stood little chance against two Homunculi at once. She thought back to all the times she had tried to move him closer to making the Philosopher's Stone. All of those struggles she had watched, coolly detached, that showed how human he was. She had seen him trying to convince a soul tied to a suit of armor that he was human, she had seen him willing to give up his life so that Scar wouldn't kill Alphonse, she had seen him beaten down a thousand times...yet he always forced himself to get up again. He only had one life, but he was willing to give it up if it was the right price. And here she was, serving a woman who refused to give up life, even when she had nothing left to live for.

Edward, glaring back into her eyes, suddenly spoke up. "You want to become human too, don't you?"

He saw her, right past the Ouroborus to the core.

A shiver ran down her spine, similar to the one she felt from the locket. "If there is a Philosopher's Stone," she said slowly, "then Shou Tucker is teaching your brother how to use it as we speak. Let's say...that you _did_ know how to use it."

"What're you talking about, Lust?!" Wrath cut in.

But Lust persevered. "Can you...make me human?"

"Traitor!" Wrath screamed before Edward could reply. He charged past the boy, but Lust easily pushed Wrath back with a finger in his shoulder.

"What are you-" Edward yelped.

"I already told you," Lust interrupted firmly. She had made her choice long ago, she realized. Ever since she had latched onto Dante's promise that she would become human, she had sealed her fate. The others carried out Dante's wishes for other reasons, but her desires had always run counter to her master's. And now, there was no turning back.

"Cut it out," Edward snapped, still poised to attack. "If you really thought I'd turn you guys into humans, you're even crazier than I thought you were."

"Why won't you?" she pleaded. "If you turned us into humans, we wouldn't hunt you anymore. Your enemies would vanish!"

Too late, Lust realized that when she had shifted her attention to Edward, Wrath had pulled free. Now he charged at her again, screaming, "Traitor, traitor, traitor! I'm gonna tell on you!"

She dodged his crazy assault and shot her fingers at him again, but too late she realized that he was holding up her locket. One finger pierced right through the metal and she shuddered to a stop. The rushing sound threatened to engulf her again, and she numbly felt herself falling onto the cold ground. But nothing was colder than that locket.

Lust's vision was arrested by the sight of Wrath's grinning face above her. The little brat rested a foot on her chest, leering down at her. "You just couldn't be patient, could you? Didn't she already say she'd make us into humans if we found the Philosopher's Stone for her?"

"I don't trust her," Lust forced out. "I can't. She only wants it to prolong her own life. She's started...many wars to achieve that goal. She's not going to...turn us into humans."

But Wrath was still grinning. "Fine with me. I'll become human without her help!"

Lust screamed as he snapped off half of her extended forefinger. It slowly grew back, of course, but the cold made the pain somehow worse.

"Our master was right about you," Wrath gloated as he attached the spike to the back of his hand. "You really can't be trusted, can you, Lust? I'll do all of us a favor, shall I? See you in hell."

Lust gasped desperately as he began to bend another finger to the side, threatening to snap it as well. But before he could, a slab of stone smashed him to the side. Then an automail hand darted out and snatched the locket off her finger, tossing it aside. But there was no time to marvel at Edward's change of heart. Even as she got to her feet, warmth returning to her body, she pinned Wrath to the ground with five fingers. She strode towards him, watching his futile struggles with satisfaction. Then she punched another finger through the Homunculus' forehead, killing him at once. An immortal Homunculus, he would rise again, but hopefully she had bought them enough time. She retracted all her fingers and walked briskly out of the alley.

"Let's go."

When she heard Edward's footsteps following, Lust broke into a run. Together, the two unlikely allies jogged up the dark, empty street, Lust's heels tapping loudly in the midnight silence. "We have to hurry," she said as they ran. "Sloth went after your brother a while ago."

"Do you know where Al was going to meet Tucker?" Edward panted, catching up to her.

"The factory where he worked before he became a State Alchemist is nearby; I assume they went there."

"Wait." Edward came to a stop. "Wait a minute!"

Reluctantly, Lust stopped as well and turned back to face him. They were wasting time; any moment now, Sloth would come upon Alphonse and take him back to Dante, or Tucker would use up all that raw power.

"I'm not making any promises," Edward said, breathing hard but looking determined. He tried so hard to be the little hero.

"Why not?"

"_I_ should be asking why!" He pointed an accusing automail finger at her. "Why do you want to become human? You guys are immortal, aren't you? And you don't even age at all, from what I can tell. You never get hurt, and you have powers that no human being can ever top! With all that, why do you want to be human again?"

His words peppered her like bullets, and she smiled sadly at his defiant, confused expression. "You don't know how cruel you're being, do you? All right, then. Why do you want your brother to return to the flesh? He's practically immortal too now, with a metal shell that never ages, tires, or hungers." Edward flinched, looking down again. "It's the same thing."

She turned around and started down the street again, but Edward wasn't finished. "Hey, don't forget!" he called after her. "I still know your weakness, you know!"

"No, Edward," she murmured to herself as he started following her again. "I won't forget about that. I can't."

As they continued on their way, Lust imagined she could feel her heart beating in Edward's grasp. Would she really be able to become human at last? Step by step, she moved closer to her fate.


	7. Sealing the Homunculus

**Chapter Seven ~ Sealing the Homunculus**

The factory where Tucker used to work had closed down years ago due to mismanagement. That was the only reason a gun factory _would_ close down in a nation like Amestris, which was at war with practically every neighboring country. No one had even bothered to clean the place up. Crates half-filled with ammunition stood in dusty piles around the silent machinery; gun barrels lay forlorn on the conveyor belt where they waited to be assembled. Part of the roof had fallen in, and the large, open space was filled with rusted metal and dust.

At first Lust thought Tucker wasn't there after all. Maybe Alphonse had found Tucker somewhere else; after all, why would he want to come back to this place filled with miserable memories? Maybe Sloth had already come here and gone to look for them somewhere else, seeing that they weren't here.

But just as Lust was about to find Edward among the mazelike machinery and tell him they had wasted their time after all, she started at the sound of creaking metal. The slanted door to the cellar in the corner banged open, and from the steps leading into the darkness came none other than Sloth. She brought Alphonse with her, leading him by two fingers as though he was a little boy rather than a huge suit of armor with shoulders twice as broad as hers. Lust quickly ducked behind a stack of crates, where she could watch the proceedings without being seen.

"I should've known!" Edward growled from somewhere out of sight. "Get away from Al, you stupid Homunculus!"

Lust remained where she was as she watched his approach. As they had agreed, she would wait for him to lure Sloth closer to Lust's position, and then they would spring the trap. Lust had to remain hidden, or her fellow Homunculus might become suspicious and realize she was betrayed.

Alphonse held up his free hand. "Brother, you don't understand! This is-"

"Yeah, she fooled me once too." Edward glared at Sloth, who gazed back impassively. "But she's not our mother."

"I know what she is, all right? But still-"

But Edward was on an even shorter fuse than usual. "No matter how similar she looks, that _thing_ doesn't have a soul! She's using our memories to manipulate us!"

Sloth smiled sadly at the boy. "You didn't used to be so cruel...Edward dear."

Then Lust heard a hoarse, whispering voice and realized that Tucker must have come up as well. "Please, Al..." he croaked desperately. "Just once more..."

"Tucker?" Edward sounded as though he was trying not to shout. "You could've killed Al by bringing him here alone!"

"It was...Equivalent Trade..." Al protested in a small voice.

Edward's voice was incrementally gentler when talking to his brother. "It doesn't take a genius to see that Tucker tricked you. There are so many idiots I have to kick the crap out of, I'll have to start carrying a list just to keep track of 'em all!" He spun on his heel, swearing loudly, and called over his shoulder, "C'mon, Al, let's get moving!"

Alphonse looked torn, but Sloth spoke for him. "He can't, Edward."

Edward immediately whirled back around. "What, are _you_ going to turn Al back to normal? Or are you just gonna bring him back to your master and use him till there's nothing left?" Without waiting for a reply, he clapped his hands and transmuted the automail of his right hand into a huge gun. "Al, duck!"

As Edward's new weapon chattered angrily, sending dozens of bullets crashing into Sloth's body, turning her into a puddle of watery goop. Lust could hear the fading sound of someone screaming; Tucker, it seemed, had run for his life. Just as Lust began to wonder if their trap would even be necessary, Alphonse jumped into the line of fire. Edward immediately stopped, stomping his foot angrily.

"You stay out of the way!"

Before they could start arguing again, Sloth's face began to re-emerge from the amorphous mass of her body. "Edward...you're hurting me..."

"Nice try, but I know it takes more than that to kill you!" Just as Sloth staggered to her feet again, Edward returned his automail to a hand and started to run with all his might. Lust flexed her fingers and waited, watching the boy run closer and closer to her hiding place. She was the only one who could see the pain on his face as the one with the form of his mother chased him.

Even though Edward had gotten a head start, his legs were shorter than Sloth's, and soon she was close enough to shoot out her still-amorphous arm and wrap it around his body, halting him in his tracks as though it was a lasso. "Your mother was talking to you," she said triumphantly.

Edward, who was straining against her grip and looking at the floor, smiled to himself. At that same moment, Sloth thought to look down and gasped when she saw the floor. She stood in the center of a large transmutation circle that had been etched deeply into the concrete factory floor. "What is this?" she hissed, afraid for the first time since Edward had shown up.

"This one is used for sealing the Homunculus, isn't it?"

With obvious effort, Sloth managed to compose herself. Lust understood the fear she felt; this circle was enough to send chills down any Homunculus' spine. It was hard enough for Lust to simply look at it, though she was well out of its range. "That's very clever of you," Sloth said, a little confidence returning to her voice. "But you're going to need more than that."

"Oh, don't worry, I know," Edward said grimly, slowly tugging something out of his pocket. "The remains of the human that died. The one the transmutation that created you was supposed to bring back. It can cripple you."

Suddenly, he stopped straining against Sloth's hold and raced back towards her. Before Sloth could do anything but gasp, he slammed a small wooden box into her stomach. Sloth gave a rattling gasp, then dissolved into a puddle once more, this time unable to move.

"Brother, what was in that box?!"

"The real thing." His jaw set, Edward strode to the edge of the circle and pressed his hands to the dark lines. The blue light of a transmutation shone steadily, encasing Sloth in the circle's small space.

"Mom...?" Alphonse slowly walked towards the circle, and Edward got to his feet, letting the transmutation carry on by itself. "You mean...you dug up her grave...without even telling me? What's _wrong_ with you?"

"In case you didn't notice," he retorted, "we're fighting for our lives!"

As the boys argued, Sloth's watery fingers feebly ran along the edge of the circle, groping for some way out. Now that it was safe, Lust strode out of her hiding place and gazed down her nose at her former companion. "It's no use, Sloth," she said coldly. "You're not going to be able to dissolve _this_ transmutation circle. I made sure to carve it out especially deep for you."

"Thanks," Edward said as he noticed her approach. "I owe you one." He tossed her the old locket, but she immediately knocked it aside, not interested in feeling that bone-deep chill again.

"I hope you don't believe I did all this for the locket, Full Metal."

Edward opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Sloth gasped, "Lust...how could you betray our master?"

Lust frowned down at Sloth, who was slowly trying to put herself back together. "Have you really forgotten everything?"

"What are you talking about?" Edward interrupted.

"Memories," Lust said, as much for Sloth's benefit as Edward's. "Memories of the people we were. They're subtle, but they're real, and even if it's only a fleeting glimpse...I still remember." She bit her lip, thinking of the man who had appeared in her mind so many times, holding her and begging her not to leave him. Scar's brother, the man who had brought her into this cursed existence. "It took me a long time to understand what I saw. Books say we shouldn't have memories. Maybe it's just that the feelings of the alchemist who performed the human transmutation were so strong that they were etched into our memories." She pressed her hand against her heart, knowing that once, this had been a human body. "But they're wrong. Those memories are mine." And those memories would help her become human again. "I was...I was an Ishbalite woman..."

"No, you weren't!" Edward cut in, much more angrily than the situation warranted.

Lust stared deep into Sloth's violet eyes, watching them widen with understanding. "Sloth remembers. But she's let our master fool her into not caring about her sons."

"She's not our mom!" Edward cried desperately.

Sloth let out a tiny whimper as Lust said softly, "Or maybe she is, but she's not yet complete..."

Alphonse, who had remained quiet all this time, suddenly rushed forward, grabbed the box of Sloth's remains from the center of the circle, and threw it with all his might. It crashed through a window with a loud crash.

"Al! What are you doing?!" Edward howled. He ran towards the nearest exit, but Alphonse knocked him off his feet. Lust noticed that at the moment of contact, the armor glowed red for an instant before returning to normal.

"Just stay down, Brother! I can't let you do this to Mom's body!"

"Don't you get it, Al? If we don't defeat these guys, they'll keep hunting you down!"

"But since the Homunculus stopped moving because of Mom's body, that's what it means, right? She was born back then!"

While the boys argued, Lust extended her fingers and kept an eye on Sloth. She would be able to move now that her remains were outside, but the transmutation was finally taking its toll. Sloth coughed up red stone after red stone, expelling the source of her immortality. Soon all her regenerative power would be gone, and they could kill her once and for all.

Edward stumbled to his feet again. "Al, she's a _Homunculus!_"

"Homunculi are born when an alchemist goes against the laws of nature." Alphonse's voice was rising with every sentence. "Whether she has a soul or not, it's our fault she exists!"

"Exactly my point!"

"We're the ones who created her! She's _our_ responsibility!"

Edward stomped his foot again. "Which is why we're the ones who have to kill her!"

"I can't do that!" Alphonse screamed.

Edward swore at the top of his lungs, but Lust cut this meaningless argument short. "Then I'll do it." Sloth, trembling and wiping her mouth, turned to look imploringly at the boys, but Lust sliced her to ribbons before she could try to say anything. "You'd better fetch those remains, Full Metal boy. There's still time to seal her."

Edward nodded, then raced outside despite his brother's protests. Alphonse turned to Lust, who immediately raised her other hand warningly. "Take one step, armor boy..."

So Alphonse hovered uncertainly at the edge of the circle, torn between wanting to chase his brother and protect Sloth. Every time Sloth's body materialized again, Lust cut her down once more. Some of the red stones still remained, but it was easy to keep her contained in the circle until Edward returned with his little box. They were at an impasse.

Suddenly Edward crashed through a window close by, struggling with someone. Alphonse whirled around in surprise, but Lust focused her attention on Sloth, who was trying harder and harder to get to her feet.

"What are you doing to Mommy?!"

Lust instantly recognized Wrath's voice, and cursed as she sliced Sloth in half again. This would complicate things.

"Mommy?" Alphonse asked in confusion while Edward and Wrath got to their feet again, brushing off shards of glass.

"This _thing_ wanted a mother so bad," Edward spat, "that he went out and found a new one!"

"I said shut up!" Wrath yelled. He began to run towards the transmutation circle, and Lust looked up in alarm when she heard the crackle of a transmutation. As he ran, Wrath dragged his hand across a nearby conveyor belt, drawing all the metal and ammunition into his arm and turning it into a machine gun even larger than Edward's had been.

She had a moment's warning, then bullets ripped through the air toward her, slamming into her chest. Lust dashed for cover behind the piles of crates, knowing she had just given Sloth the opening she needed. As she ran, she heard heavy iron feet running away as Alphonse begged Sloth to stop. She must have invaded his armor to control his movements.

Lust jumped out from behind Wrath, and with a single swipe of her deadly fingers, chopped off his entire arm. As the Homunculus screamed and fell to the ground, clutching the stump of his arm, Lust turned briefly to Edward. "Go. I'll take care of Wrath."

Their eyes met briefly, then Edward nodded and raced after his brother. They had to get that Philosopher's Stone back, or neither of them could see their dreams come true.

"Now," Lust said, as the bullets that had lodged in her chest fell tinkling at her feet as the skin knitted back together. "Don't you think you're too old to be crying for Mommy?"

Wrath glared up at her, flexing his fingers as they grew back. Before he could make a move, Lust pierced his chest with a single finger and tossed him carelessly against the nearest piece of machinery. Wrath let out a shriek of pain, but picked himself up as soon as she pulled her finger back out. "You can't win," he said with a vicious smile. "I'll just keep coming back to life."

Lust smiled pityingly at him. "Oh, that's only as long as the red stones are renewed. Didn't you know?"

Wrath glared at her, then started to run with all his might in the direction the others had gone. As if he could escape the long reach of her fingers, the fool.

"And I can soon change that," Lust called, trotting after him and shooting her fingers towards him, though he managed to dodge most of them. "I'll just rip the stones out of your belly...one death at a time."

"I'm...I'm going to become _him!_" Wrath screamed as they ran.

"And what exactly is the point in that?"

He whirled around to face her. "What do you mean?! It's the whole point of everything! Why should I exist if I'm a creature like _you?_"

Their eyes met – violet eyes with slit pupils. They were siblings, siblings by alchemy rather than blood, and at their core they were exactly the same. They hated themselves, hated what they had become, so they turned that hatred outward to the humans who were everything they could never be.

Lust slammed him to the ground, hating the brat more than ever because he, of all people in the whole world, _understood._ She glared at him while he coughed and slowly curled his hands into fists. "Using you was a mistake from the start."

"And why is that, Lust?" Wrath looked up at her, suddenly smiling. "Because I'm the one Homunculus who can use alchemy? Or did you forget that detail?"

Gasping, Lust looked down at her feet and realized far too late that she was standing on the transmutation circle. She turned and started to run, but she knew there was no hope of escaping now. Wrath tossed the locket he had picked up from the floor, and it landed right before her. The horrible chill ran from her head to her toes, and she froze in place. Her heart pounded and her breath came fast. She was done for.

With a triumphant chuckle, Wrath placed his hands on the transmutation circle and activated it.

Lust grunted with pain as her insides twisted, knotting up in painful tangles. She crashed to her knees, trembling as her stomach heaved. She retched, and red stones no bigger than pebbles fell from her mouth. She could feel every single one as the alchemy forced it up through her throat. She tried to close her teeth on them, to keep in her life force, but nothing could stop it now.

Then, every single red stone that had fueled her regeneration all these years lay on the floor in front of her. Even as she crouched, trembling as the pain receded, the stones dissolved into useless puddles. The light from the transmutation died away, but Lust was still unable to move because of the locket in front of her.

Wrath walked up to her, his feet appearing in her line of vision. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he taunted. "You wanted to be human so you could die."

Lust gasped and her eyes widened, but it wasn't Wrath's feet that she saw. She saw that Ishbalite man bending over her and begging his god to spare her. She saw Lujon slumping to the ground in a puddle of his own blood, confusion written on every feature. She saw Scar, trudging stubbornly to his death as blood poured from him, determined to put things right.

"Maybe you're right," Lust murmured. She barely noticed when Wrath turned his arm into a deadly blade. "Where did I come from...and where will I go when I die? Maybe all this time...this is what I wanted." She closed her eyes, smiling a real smile for the first time since she had become a Homunculus. "The freedom to find out."

The blade descended, and Lust fell to the ground. She felt her life trickle steadily away, and a rushing sound filled her ears. At first she thought it was rain, but then she realized it was blood pumping through her veins. Warm blood, as warm as the blood of humans that would make up a Philosopher's Stone.

Lust died with a smile on her face.


End file.
